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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24082111">First And Last Times</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfairy13/pseuds/greenfairy13'>greenfairy13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Meetings, M/M, Zsasz's POV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:22:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24082111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenfairy13/pseuds/greenfairy13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor meets Roman for the first time when he's supposed to kill him - it doesn't go exactly according to plan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>First And Last Times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for a prompt on Tumblr 'Give me one good reason why I shouldn't splatter your brains on the floor'. First time I'm writing Zsaszmask-I'm nervous!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Victor Zsasz always thought a first meeting says a lot about how a relationship is supposed to develop in the future. That firm belief turned out to be quite untrue when it comes to one Roman Sionis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then what does was Victor know? Most people would argue their first and last meeting with the infamous killer coincides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s not to say those people wouldn’t leave a lasting impression - quite the contrary. But to leave an impression that isn’t quite as </span>
  <em>
    <span>obvious</span>
  </em>
  <span>, well, that honor had been up to Gotham’s newest candidate for the crown of the underbelly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But we’ll start at the beginning, kay? </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Motherfuckin fuckwit of a peacock, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Victor thinks when first laying his eyes on the man currently dangling from the ceiling in some very private basement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spits on the floor, visibly disappointed by today’s task, and cracks his knuckles. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This will be over embarrassingly soon. </span>
  </em>
  <span>One good look at Sionis, the Black Mask, as he loves to call himself, has told him everything he needs to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wanker is just pathetic! Who the fuck wears fuckin pastels? To a shoot-out of all things? An attempt to take down Sofia Gigante is not the fuckin Oscars. And if it were, Sionis would have earned himself a Razzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Zsasz didn’t expect much from him in the first place. The pathetic lil shit will break down within seconds, of that he’s certain. Stupid, boarding-school wimp, that one is. He’s probably lost the moment he enters a room without a drink to hold onto. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spits out again, this time in disgust, and goes to work. Gigante wants Sionis to get sliced into tiny pieces and fed to her genetically modified koi-carps. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No problemo! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor starts setting out his tools one by one. The hammer comes first. It’s decorated with one or two dried blood-stains. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates the blood, though. Personally, he prefers a clean, hygienic approach to work, yet his boss insists on some crude intimidation-techniques. Oh well, employee-protection isn’t something anyone gives much thought to in Gotham. The pincers are next, followed by a shiny, new set of scalpels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other man is meanwhile still dangling from the ceiling, looking at Victor’s devices. At this point, the assassin expects something like a horrified gasp, maybe an occasional cry of ‘you don’t have to do this’, or - at least - a sob. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he gets, though, is a high-pitched whine. “Boooooooring”, Roman cries out, sounding like an annoyed little bitch about to find out her favorite lipstick is outta stock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, that’s not an unheard-of approach, however, definitely a more unique one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning around, Victor gives Roman a seemingly uninterested once-over. The other man rolls his eyes, and wiggling his upper body, he starts swinging as if he was on a playground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bastard even has the audacity to yawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grinning ferociously, Victor decides he wants the smugness gone from the other one’s face. He raises his hammer, aims for the face, and finally elicits the cry he hoped for - unless in a decidedly different context. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roman swings swiftly outta the way, furiously screaming, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘not my face, not my face’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>like that one hysterical chick who walked in on Victor while delivering a message to her now late husband. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That face is worth more than all your ugly-ass teeth combined,” the man screeches, sounding every bit like an enraged banshee. “If I’m about to get murdered with a fuckin household-appliance, at least make sure that fuckin thing from the dollar store doesn’t come near my face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roman glares </span>
  <em>
    <span>down</span>
  </em>
  <span> at Victor from </span>
  <em>
    <span>below</span>
  </em>
  <span>, which is in itself an achievement, not showing the slightest bit of fear, and yelling out orders. It’s so absurd the killer has to laugh. And not just that bemused bark he sometimes coughs out, no, an honest to God, pure, heartfelt roar that whips through his entire body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tilting his head to the side, he decides he’ll indulge his victim and see what else it has to offer. Tossing the hammer aside, he picks up the scalpel. Roman only rolls his eyes at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What you gonna do?” he challenges. “Carve some patterns into my skin? Ask me some questions? Wait for me to cry and beg? Pah!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s how those things usually work,” Victor confirms sensibly. He bends down until he’s at eye level with his prey, checking for those sweet, sweet signs of distress. Inhaling, he expects to smell that sour, musky scent of sweat that always indicates the beginning of his fun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smells nothing but a hint of chrysanthemum and vervain. Not that Victor knows that very moment what exactly he smells. He only knows it smells </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a better look at that skin the other man is so obviously very fond of, takes in the line of a strong jaw-line, pliant lips, fine lines from smiling too often around his eyes, and decides that, yes, that face is indeed a wonderful canvas. Too bad there won’t be much left of it once he’s done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under different circumstances, he’d probably fuck the guy first and kill him later - but this is about business, not his personal pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roman, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop calling him Roman, Victor chides</span>
  </em>
  <span>, tries suppressing a wheeze. Ah yes, he almost forgot, his ribs are already broken. The other man bares his teeth, pulls a grimace that somewhat resembles a grin, yet Victor knows the signs - he’s merely trying to mask his pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing his chin, he turns the man, forces him to study him as well. Roman scoffs. “Pathetic,” is his verdict. “Look what you’ve become,” he grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that would be?” Victor snaps back before he can stop himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You used to be an artist!” Roman exclaims so violently the chains holding him up, start to rattle precariously. “The Da Vinci of murder you used to be! A Salvador Dali with a knife, and now? All you come up with is dangling me from the ceiling and showing me this </span>
  <em>
    <span>crap</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor snarls, gives him a good shove in return, and turns back to his tools. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, how does it feel to live your life like a chained pit bull?” Roman howls instead. “Every day you get up, torture a bit, but where’s the passion? The spark? The </span>
  <em>
    <span>creativity</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Victor is sure if he could, he’d gesticulate wildly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trust me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>creativity</span>
  </em>
  <span> will be the last thing on your mind once I’m done with you,” he snaps back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roman clicks his tongue, yet refuses to acknowledge that statement. “When was the last time you truly had fun?” he asks instead, managing to look smug even in his predicament. “When was the last time someone really let you loose, mm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arching an eyebrow at his captive, Victor licks his lips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What a shame, truly, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks. He should have been given a chance to bang that vocal, little slut before cutting his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roman smirks knowingly, and for a moment, Victor is baffled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that out loud,” he sing-songs, as a strand of his hair loosens, elegantly framing his face. “Look,” he continues, still grinning knowingly. “I have an offer for you - you can either work for me, or kill me off and file for unemployment in about….” Roman wiggles his head from side to side, seemingly counting, when a loud bang jolts through the basement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess now,” he finishes, unfazed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tilting his head, Victor considers the offer. It sounds suspiciously as if Gigante is no more, and besides, he has never been especially good all on his own, without anyone to point him in the right direction. On the other hand, it’s been a long time since he enjoyed true freedom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then he hasn’t met anyone who has the ability to humor him in an even longer time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding to himself, Victor makes a decision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet before he can touch the chain, Roman stops him. “One thing though,” he declares sternly. “I demand </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolute</span>
  </em>
  <span> loyalty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Victor sighs and pushes a button, releasing him. If there’s even one thing he’s better at than killing people, it’s serving people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roman jumps to his feet almost immediately. “Eww,” he says. Wrinkling his nose in disgust as he wipes some grime from his suit before slapping Victor’s face with his palm outstretched, like a little girl. It stings viciously, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprised, Victor looks up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No more ruining my suits,” Romans orders angrily. “And now,” he continues, putting his arm around Victor’s shoulders as if they’d been friends forever. “Do you know how to make shrinking heads?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baffled, the assassin follows his new boss out of the basement, slowly realizing this had been the first and last time he had the upper hand in his relationship with Roman Sionis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody in Gotham dares to tell him that is untrue, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then it’s Gotham - and she has her own truths. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
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